2020 vision on 2019's missing greats

Every year there are tons of records I miss, only to discover later—usually through the help of reading other people's year-end lists, or various wormholes I find myself falling into. Now that I'm no longer writing a weekly review column, that list is larger than usual. Here's 10 records that I wasn't aware of, or that hadn't sunk in, when I wrote my 2019 best-of, which you can read here. Best of 2020 coming soon.

 

 

 

Bon Enfant – s/t. In the shittiest year imaginable, this French-Canadian slice of psych-pop brought rays of sunshine and escapism. A windows-open, first-day-of-spring classic. This list is in alphabetical order, but Bon Enfant would be at the top even if it wasn't. I've written about it here and here. 

  

Kaytranada – Bubba (RCA). This came out in mid-December 2019, after most year-end lists were published. Why such a summer dance record would come out in December is a mystery to me, but it didn't seem to affect this Montreal DJ's upward trajectory. I wrote about it here and here. 

Lankum – The Livelong Day (Rough Trade). A traditional Irish band from Dublin who approach their material like a Gaelic Godspeed, full of drones and tension and explosions. Some incredible interpretations of traditional songs ("Katie Cruel") alongside originals ("Young People," about a suicide epidemic). This is music for life during wartime. Or, say, a pandemic. "I've been a wild rover for many's a year / And I've spent half me money drinking strong ale and beer / But now for the future I must take better care / In case that misfortune might come to my share." So stay at home and drone the fuck out with Lankum instead.  

 

Also: holy cow, this video.

Lightning Dust – Spectre (Western Vinyl). Fifteen years after Josh Wells and Amber Webber were a huge part of Black Mountain's debut album, their own project put out what might be the best record they've ever been involved in. I don't know why I first heard it and thought merely, "Oh, that's nice." The more I dove in, the more I fell in love—especially during isolation times. I wrote about it here and here.

 

Little Scream – Speed Queen. This took a while to sink in, but when it did—after seeing her live show at the Wavelength anniversary—I couldn't stop listening to it. I've written about it here and here. 

 

Little Simz – Grey Area (Age 101). A fantastic rap record by this 26-year-old London woman, moving through rock, reggae, funk, disco and even orchestral flourishes ("Venom"). She slays on the mic, with charisma not unlike Haviah Mighty, but it's the music here that really gets me: sparse, lots of live instrumentation, and thriving on raw energy. I'll admit that most UK rap is a mystery to me, with rare exceptions, but this transcends many barriers. 

Mdou Moctar – Ilana: The Creator (Sahel Sounds). I've never been a blues guy, never need to hear a rock guitar god record again in my life, and if I ever crave electric desert blues I'm happy to cling to Tinariwen's 2017 album Elwan. But hoooooollllly shit, I was not prepared for Mdou Moctor, to whose game I'm coming to quite late, despite that Purple Rain-remade-in-the-Sahara shtick from five years ago. This record is fiery and entrancing and a total trip. He was on tour and due to appear in Toronto in March, with Les Filles de Illighadad, no less, when the shutdown hit—dammit! A new record on Matador is expected next year. 

 

Junius Paul – Ism (International Anthem). This Chicago jazz bassist appeared on Makaya McCraven's 2018 album Universal Beings, and this late 2019 debut solo outing compiles recordings made with others dating back years. He's a monstrous bassist surrounded by equally killer players, and this double album shifts between funk, bop and abstractions, sometimes all in one track ("Paris"). Lots of bang for one bass. 

 

Wilco – Ode to Joy (dBpm). I haven't followed everything Jeff Tweedy and company have done in the last decade—Tweedy interests me more as a producer than as a songwriter these days—but his excellent memoir sent me back to this one repeatedly. Yes, it's a largely acoustic, middle-aged band record riding a bit of an endless bummer, but hey, that's where I'm at. 

 

 

Yola – Walk Through Fire (Nonesuch). This was almost a year old (released in Feb 2019) by the time I heard it and was completely blown away. I mean, just the first song ("Faraway Look"), on the first verse and the transition to the first chorus on is such revelatory ecstasy that it's hard to imagine the rest of the album matching it. And yet she pulls it off, again and again. Yola is a British soul singer, with a huge voice, recording in Nashville with Dan Auerbach, who gives her a lush 70s country-pop sound that matches her songs and skills to perfection. These songs are so good and timeless that I can't believe they're not all covers. And "Ride Out to the Country" became a personal fave at a time in 2020 when no one was allowed to do so.

 

2020 Polaris Music Prize shortlist, Day 4: Junia T, Kaytranada

My annual five-part look at the shortlist examines two records a day, plus two personal picks from the qualifying period, and this year—as the prize gets older and still skews young—I’m including one veteran artist each day whose latest work risks getting lost in the shuffle.


This year we’re going in reverse alphabetical order, because, hey, everything else about 2020 is upside down.


The winner this year will be announced on Monday, October 19 in a televised ceremony featuring 10 commissioned short films, airing on CBC Gem, YouTube and social media.


Day 1, with Witch Prophet and U.S. Girls, is here. Day 2, with Jessie Reyez and Pantayo, is here. Day 3 with Lido Pimienta and Nehiyawak is here.


Day 4

Kaytranada – Bubba (RCA)

The album: It’s good. I know that ideally all these albums should be reviewed in isolation, without regard to biography, previous work, or live show. But I loved Kaytranada’s 2016 debut, 99.9%, so much; it was a total breath of fresh air. To these ears, he brought a unique sound to modern grooves; it wasn’t hip-hop or funk or pop or R&B or house or whatever else it was described as. It was a party in a can, with some top-shelf guests. I could say all the same things about Bubba—but I’m not sure what else I would say. There are some strong guests here, especially British singer Estelle, Chicago rapper Mick Jenkins, and Jamaican-American Masego, but others sound like they’re phoning it in, and it’s the four instrumental tracks on Bubba that come out the strongest. The biggest name here, Pharrell Williams, shits the bed; his track shouldn’t have even been a B-side. So what we have here is Kaytranada doing what Kaytranada does exceptionally well, with less impressive collaborations bogging things down.



The chances: Slim. Again, as with Lido Pimienta and Caribou (and Owen Pallett, who didn’t shortlist) I think “previous winner” is a Polaris curse, even more so for a follow-up album. And Kaytranada would have had to make a better album than 99.9% to win again.


Junia T – Studio Monk (Pirates Blend)

The album: Kaytranada is hardly the only uber-funky beatmaker making waves this year. Right from the get-go, Junia T gives the previous Polaris winner a run for his money on the extremely Kaytranada-ish “Tommy’s Intro,” featuring Sean Leon and 99.9% guest River Tiber. The rest of the album maintains that standard, through different moods and singers. Jessie Reyez is the only big name here, but that’s because she appeared on a Junia T album long before her big break, and she then took him on the road as her DJ. Reyez is in fine company: Every guest here shows off big personalities—Benjamin A.D., Elijah Dax, Storry, Faiza, Toronto vet Adam Bomb and others—while never overshadowing the brilliance of Junia T’s arrangements, which draw from vintage funk, neosoul, reggae, triphop, Brazilian beats and jazz. The beats are killer; the bass lines even better. The singers are all pitch perfect. Slakah the Beatchild is behind the boards, ensuring a rich, warm, vintage sound. This album was two years in the making, and it shows: there is a deep attention to detail and mood on every track. This album should be to the next generation of Toronto what Broken Social Scene’s You Forgot It In People was to indie rock in the early 2000s.

Read Del Cowie's profile here.




The chances: Strong. The only strike against it would be Polaris rewarding two Toronto hip-hop-adjacent records in a row, which is hardly a strike at all, considering Polaris's chin-stroking, wallflower history, and that Haviah Mighty was the first rap record to win Polaris (also: any broader contextual talk like this is banned during grand jury discussions, which are about the current albums only). But this isn’t a rap record, far from it; only four of the 13 songs even feature rappers. This is a genre-averse album that should be heard far and wide.


The could’ve, should’ve beens:

Ice Cream – Fed Up (independent)

The album: These daughters of Peaches and Le Tigre bring not only next-gen feminist electro pop extraordinaire, but some serious guitar shredding, inventive programming, strong vocals and top-notch production. Opening tracks “Bun Roo” and “Peanut Butter” are fun, industrial-tinged pop songs, but “Banana Split” is seriously slinky. The title track channels dystopian Detroit soundscapes while they sing about being “queens of the void, queens of everything.” “Dove’s Cry” is a surprisingly affecting ballad over an off-kilter beat—though it’s about soap, self-image and consumerism (I think). “Not Surprising” is ghostly and ice-cold while a saxophone dances around like a snow squall. Closing track “0.22” is a Gary Numan throwback, with lyrics seemingly about a woman’s indoctrination into a cult. And—that’s it! Eight songs, ba da bing, ba da boom. 

Read Michael Rancic's piece about them in Now here.

Why it didn’t shortlist: I was surprised it didn’t. Hopefully the long list raised their profile a bit. They somehow ended up opening for Sam Roberts at a big drive-in concert by the Toronto waterfront last month.


Frazey Ford – U Kin B the Sun (Arts and Crafts)

The album: This B.C. singer has exactly the kind of voice I needed to hear this year. She returned from a six-year hiatus with her strongest solo record to date, 20 years after we first heard her in the Be Good Tanyas. She’s still mining Memphis grooves from Al Green, although this time she doesn't borrow his band like she did on 2014’s Indian Ocean. She co-wrote all this material with her Vancouver band, including longtime producer/engineer John Raham. The arrangements are incredibly sparse, usually with just a dash of piano or guitar over top the rhythm section, giving Ford’s voice room to roam. Ford sings of healing, redemption, empathy and resilience, in her unique delivery. The Aretha Franklin of the Kootenays? Let’s just say that words fail to describe the magic that is Frazey Ford. Or maybe I’m just a shitty writer. Kitty Empire at the Guardian is not, so read her live review here.



Why it didn’t even longlist: Just curious, but I’m guessing that—other than the complete anomaly that is Buffy Sainte-Marie—no mid-career woman in her 40s has ever made the long list, with the exception of the mighty Sarah Harmer this year. Am I wrong? Also: not a single artist from Vancouver, or even British Columbia, made the long list this year. (Though Backxwash grew up there before moving to Montreal.)


Veteran MIA:

Kevin Hearn – Calm and Cents (Celery Music)

This Toronto keyboardist is better known for the eclectic company he keeps (Barenaked Ladies, Lou Reed, Rheostatics, Gord Downie) than his own series of lovely solo records, which are slightly proggy pop delights with lush production. Here, as the title suggests, Hearn is in a much more placid mood. He's not here to make Yet Another Solo Piano record, though (not that he ever has, but I'd love to hear it); there's a glut in the market for that right now. Instead, he employs fellow Look People alumnus Chris Gartner on bass, superstar producer Gavin Brown on drums, and fellow auxiliary Rheostatic Hugh Marsh on drums for a largely instrumental collection. On previous records, Hearn's voice could be a dealbreaker for some; here, he uses a Vocoder to sing of environmental decay ("The Silent Collapse," "Chemical Valley"). The music is most reminiscent of the Rheostatics' Music Inspired by the Group of Seven, which Hearn co-wrote 25 years ago; Calm and Cents is a futuristic, sci-fi vision of the Canadian Shield, anchored by a piano that sounds like it was recorded in a cabin in Algonquin Park. The dub reggae backdrop of "The Nemophilist" might seem incongruous on paper, but fits perfectly into Hearn's cinematic vision. I enjoyed this record when it came out; it became a go-to record during pandemic stress.

Unrelated: be sure to watch the acclaimed and surprising documentary about Hearn's odd role in exposing an art fraud ring in northern Ontario, called There Are No Fakes. It's streaming at TVO here. 

Tomorrow: Caribou, Backxwash

The 2010s in 10x10

Informative, not authoritative. I much prefer personal lists to those that lay some sort of claim to objectivity. I learn about a lot of great music from them. I hope this does this same for you. I want to read yours.

During this decade, like the one before it, I had a weekly review column in which I discussed approximately 200 albums a year. That’s 2,000 in a decade, not counting music by artists about whom I wrote stories or by whom I was hired to write bios, and not counting music I listened to just for the hell of it. So yeah, I had trouble narrowing a few things down.

This list has nothing to do with any professional obligation, however; it’s personal. It’s a list made by a 48-year-old white dad who lives in Central Canada, so make of that what you will. I don’t feel an obligation to pretend to like Frank Ocean or Taylor Swift or Bon Iver or Lana del Rey or Radiohead or whomever else leaves me cold. I didn’t think I listened to much rock’n’roll anymore, but apparently I listen to a lot more of it than Pitchfork writers do. Because I’m still very much an album listener, there’s nothing here by some decade-defining artists whose singles I love. And there’s definitely no Drake here—because, hey, I’m older than 35 and I’m pigheaded about my emperor’s-new-clothes crusade. The fact that he’s universally hailed as the “artist of the decade” only proves how wrong I am about everything.

So here’s my top 100 of the decade 2010-19. There’s no way I’m going to rank these. I did, however, break it down into a top 20 and the remaining 80, singling out 30 underdogs for discovery purposes. With four exceptions, no artist appears twice. One of these records seems to have been wiped from the internet, and I’m probably one of the only people who’s noticed. All lists arranged alphabetically, except the one off the top that’s not. I’m sure I forgot more than a few things.

If you want to shuffle all these up in your Spotify, there’s a playlist here.

If you just want one sample song from each, that playlist is here.

Here we go:

The top 20:

I wrote year-end lists every year—which made this task a helluva lot easier. Looking back, it’s always interesting (to me) to see what records I still want to listen to, and which merely sounded good at the time. But I’ll stand by my 10 #1 choices: I might not feel, today, that they’re necessarily the best records of that given year, but they’re still favourites that earn an easy pass onto an end-of-decade list. Click for links to the full lists for the years in question.

2010: Arcade Fire – The Suburbs

2011: TuneYards – Whokill

2012: Grimes – Visions

2013: AroarA – In the Pines*

2014: Owen Pallett – In Conflict

2015: Buffy Sainte-Marie – Power in the Blood

2016: Beyoncé – Lemonade

2017: Weaves – Wide Open

2018: U.S. Girls – In a Poem Unlimited

2019: Snotty Nose Rez Kids – Trapline

Here’s the last half of my top 20, absolutely essential records, all—at least to me, if no one else:

Alabama Shakes – Sound and Color (2015)

Eric Bachmann – s/t (2016)

Bonjay – Lush Life (2018)

Jeremy Dutcher – Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa (2018)

Veda Hille – Love Waves (2016)

Kaytranada – 99.9% (2016)

Man Man – On Oni Pond (2013)

Mbongwana Star – From Kinshasa (2015)

Robyn – Body Talk (2010)

Gillian Welch – The Harrow and the Harvest (2011)

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Stop here if you’re already bored. But of the other 80 records on this list, here are 30 underdogs records that got little or no press, by artists unlikely to fill a venue in English Canada larger than 500 capacity. Again, other than the top 20 listed above, these aren’t ranked; these are just highlighted in the hopes that you make some discoveries here. Broken down by Canada vs. the world:

Canada:

Geoff Berner – Canadiana Grotesquica (2017)

Cadence Weapon – s/t (2018)

Kathryn Calder – Bright and Vivid (2011)

Le Couleur – P.O.P. (2016)

Mark Davis – Eliminate the Toxins (2011)

Dennis Ellsworth – Things Change (2018)

Jim Guthrie – Takes Time (2013)

Hilotrons – At Least There’s Commotion (2013)

Zaki Ibrahim – Every Opposite (2012)

La Force – s/t (2018)

Jean Leloup – À Paradis City (2015)

Michelle McAdorey – Into Her Future (2015)

Scott Merritt – Of (2015)*

Nick Buzz – A Quiet Evening at Home (2013)
Doug Paisley – Constant Companion (2010)*

International:

Africa Express Presents Maison des Jeunes – Various Artists (2014)

Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah – Ancestral Recall (2019)

Gaye Su Akyol – Istikrarli Hayal Hakikattir (2018)

Altin Gun – On (2018)

Anna Calvi – Hunter (2018)

Brandy Clark – 12 Stories (2013)

Nels Cline – Lovers (2016)

EMA – The Future’s Void (2014)

Bill Fay – Life is People (2012)

Kikagaku Moyo – Masana Temples (2018)

Nakhane – You Will Not Die (2019)

Sons of Kemet – Your Queen is a Reptile (2018)

Moses Sumney – Aromanticism (2017)

The Thermals – Personal Life (2010)

Shye Ben Tzur, Jonny Greenwood and Rajasthan Express – Junun (2015)

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Looking for more familiar faces? Here’s the remaining 50, featuring somewhat more well-known subjects (though not necessarily, especially if you’re not Canadian):

Arca – s/t (2017)

Arcade Fire – Everything Now (2017)

BadBadNotGood – IV (2016)

Beach House – Teen Dream (2010)

Belle and Sebastian – Write About Love (2010)

Mary J. Blige – The London Sessions (2014)

David Bowie – Blackstar (2016)

Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record (2010)

Basia Bulat – Tall Tall Shadow (2013)

Caribou – Swim (2010)

Rosanne Cash – The River and the Thread (2013)

Jennifer Castle – Pink City (2014)

Cat Power – Sun (2012)

Neneh Cherry – Broken Politics (2018)

Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker (2016)

Destroyer – Poison Season (2015)

Beth Ditto – Fake Sugar (2017)

Gord Downie and the Country of Miracles – The Grand Bounce (2010)

Feist – Metals (2011)

Fucked Up – Dose Your Dreams (2018)

Lady Gaga – Joanne (2016)

Kendrick Lamar – To Pimp a Butterfly (2015)

Lee Harvey Osmond – The Folk Sinner (2013)

Low – Double Negative (2018)

Corb Lund – Cabin Fever (2012)

Janelle Monae – Dirty Computer (2018)

AC Newman – Shut Down the Streets (2012)

Joanna Newsom – Have One on Me (2010)*

Orville Peck – Pony (2019)

Perfume Genius – Too Bright (2014)

Robert Plant – Band of Joy (2010)

Jessie Reyez – Kiddo EP (2017)

Rosalía – El Mal Querer (2018)

Santigold – Master of My Make-Believe (2012)

Sleater-Kinney – No Cities to Love (2015)

Solange – True EP (2012)

Spoon – Hot Thoughts (2017)

Mavis Staples – One True Vine (2013)

Vince Staples – Summertime 06 (2015)

Tanya Tagaq – Animism (2014)

Tracey Thorn – Love and Its Opposites (2010)

Timber Timbre – Sincerely, Future Pollution (2017)

Tinariwen – Elwan (2017)

The Tragically Hip – Man Machine Poem (2016)

Rokia Traoré – Beautiful Africa (2013)

A Tribe Called Quest – We Got It From Here… (2016)

A Tribe Called Red – Nation II Nation (2013)

Vampire Weekend – Modern Vampires of the City (2013)

The Weeknd – House of Balloons (2010)

The Xx – I See You (2017)

*Four titles are not available on streaming services

AroarA seems to have ceased their web presence since Ariel Engle launched La Force: you can’t stream or buy this anywhere. I’ve been told In the Pines is about to be reissued in the U.S. on a poetry label out of Portland, Oregon.

Scott Merritt’s music can be purchased here.

Joanna Newsom’s music can be purchased here.

Doug Paisley's music is on Spotify, but curiously his 2010 album Constant Companion is not. It is, however, on Bandcamp here. 

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What’s that? You’re still here? Finally, in the highly unlikely event you’re not already satiated, here’s yet another 50 excellent records I think should also be thrown in the time capsule:

Alvvays – Antisocialites (2017)

Atoms for Peace – s/t (2013)

Courtney Barnett – Sometimes I Sit and Think… (2015)

Willis Earl Beal – Nobody Knows (2013)

Geoff Berner – Victory Party (2011)

Jim Bryson – Somewhere We Will Find Our Place (2016)

The Comet is Coming – Channel the Spirits (2016)

Darkside – Psychic (2013)

Dirty Projectors – Swing Lo Magellan (2012)

Gord Downie – Introduce Yerself (2017)

Dominique Fils-Aimé – Stay Tuned (2019)

Dr. John – Locked Down (2012)

Kevin Hearn – Days in Frames (2014)

Hidden Cameras – Home on Native Land (2016)

Japandroids – Celebration Rock (2012)

J Rocc – Some Cold Rock Stuff (2011)

Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings – Give Them What They Want (2014)

The Julie Ruin – s/t (2013)

Lydia Képinski – Premier juin (2018)

Angelique Kidjo – Remain in Light (2018)

Michael Kiwanuka – Love & Hate (2016)

Pierre Kwenders – Le dernier empereur bantou (2014)

Terra Lightfoot – New Mistakes (2017)

Hubert Lenoir – Darlène (2018)

Lykke Li – Wounded Rhymes (2011)

Lizzo – Coconut Oil EP (2016)

Lotic – Power (2018)

Brad Mehldau – Finding Gabriel (2019)

Miguel – Kaleidoscope Dream (2012)

Tami Neilson – Don’t Be Afraid (2015)

Tunde Olaniran – Transgressor (2015)

Operators – Blue Wave (2016)

Anderson.Paak – Malibu (2016)

Pusha T – My Name Is My Name (2013)

Kim Richey – Edgeland (2018)

Rocket Juice & the Moon – s/t (2012)

The Roots – And Then You Shoot Your Cousin (2014)

Sagot – Valse 333 (2014)

Sampha – Process (2017)

Paul Simon – Stranger to Stranger (2016)

Snowblink – Inner Classics (2012)

Kae Sun – Afriye (2013)

Tobi – Still (2019)

Maylee Todd – Acts of Love (2017)

Two Hours Traffic – Foolish Blood (2013)

Tom Waits – Bad As Me (2011)

Jack White – Lazaretto (2014)

Whitehorse – Panther in the Dollhouse (2017)

Wolf Parade – Cry Cry Cry (2017)

Wye Oak – Civilian (2011)

Apparently I thought 2018 and 2013 were amazing years for music. Breakdown by year:

2018: 21

2013: 20

2016: 19

2017: 18

2014: 14

2015: 14

2012: 14

2010: 13

2011: 10

2019: 7 (I’m less likely to trust my recent infatuations)

Best of 2016

From what I can tell, this list is not like many others (#1 pick notwithstanding). I'd love to have seen more people talking about Veda Hille, Michael Kiwanuka, Eric Bachmann, Tami Neilson, The Comet is Coming, Black Mountain, Nels Cline, Glauco Venier, Paul Simon, Lizzo, Hidden Cameras and Jim Bryson, as well as many more great records found at the bottom of the main list. 2016 gave me panic attacks and made me think more about my mortality than at any time in my life, but at least there was no shortage of great music.

Some of these blurbs ran over two columns in the Waterloo Record, some ran on Macleans.ca.

1. Beyoncé – Lemonade (Sony). This is the only album that drove the collective conversation in 2016—and deservedly so. It’s the rare blockbuster pop album by a superstar that prompts political headlines, endless think pieces and taps directly into the zeitgeist in ways we haven’t seen in decades. It was also the first time the seemingly untouchable goddess appeared human, vulnerable, even vindictive, just as flawed as the rest of us. That came through not only in the lyrics but her vocal delivery, which was far more emotionally raw than she’s ever shown us. The cast of A-list collaborators gives the record an eclectic yet still consistent musical vision that by no means diminishes who exactly is in charge here: one queen to rule them all.

2. Veda Hille – Love Waves (independent). The Vancouver art-pop songwriter writes melodies that could sell a musical (which she’s done, to great acclaim), has the gall and the talent to rewrite and (gasp) improve her favourite songs by David Bowie and Brian Eno, employs many of Vancouver’s finest players, pens a plaintive ode to her young boy and reimagines the ordeal of Orpheus and Eurydice—in German, no less. Oh, and she’s wickedly funny when she wants to be. There’s no end to her insatiable curiosity—or her talent. (Original review here.)

3. Kaytranada – 99.9% (XL). The year’s weirdest success story also spawned one of the best records: 23-year-old bedroom-dwelling Haitian-Montrealer known for SoundCloud remixes pulls in up-and-coming international collaborators (Anderson.Paak, AlunaGeorge), almost-forgotten R&B and hip-hop artists (Craig David, Phonte), and new Toronto beatmakers (BadBadNotGood, River Tiber) and ends up creating the straight-up funkiest record to come out of Canada—perhaps ever, winning the Polaris Music Prize in the process. It’s draws from old school hip-hop, jazz fusion, Brazilian beats, Donna Summer disco, house music, DJ Shadow deconstruction, and anything else that sounds fantastic on the dance floor. Drake may have dominated the charts and the headlines, but Kaytranada made the infinitely superior—and much more fun—record. (Original review here. My take on his Polaris win here.)

4. Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker (Sony). Frankly, Leonard, I’m not sure we did want it darker; 2016 turned out bleaker than we could ever have imagined (and it’s not over yet). It was enough that Cohen left us with one final masterpiece before he died, but his death proved to be a gift that gave us reason to re-examine his entire catalogue in a year when we were grasping for a glimpse of any light through the cracks. Unlike the elliptical Bowie record, You Want It Darker dealt specifically with death, with finality—and it was also funny, characteristically so. But there were no more chilling words sung (or spoken) this year than Cohen intoning, “I’m ready, my Lord.” (Original review here. My obit for him in Maclean’s here. I curated some memories of him from ordinary Canadians here.)

5. David Bowie – Blackstar (Sony). Even before his death shocked the world, this was already being hailed as his best album in (gulp) more than 30 years, one in which he fully embraced the influence of his hero, Scott Walker, and joined forces with Donny McCaslin’s powerful jazz band. Coy devil that he is, on Jan. 10 the always-innovative Bowie was also the first person to tell us that, other than music, 2016 was going to be a steaming pile of shit. (Original review here. My obit for him in Maclean’s here.)

6. The Tragically Hip – Man Machine Poem (Universal). Gord Downie was a newsmaker of the year for staring down death and delivering a series of triumphs, but least discussed among them was the fact that the newest Tragically Hip album was alone a reason to celebrate. Written and recorded before Downie’s diagnosis, and co-produced by Broken Social Scene’s Kevin Drew, it was a reinvention that could well have turned over a new leaf in the legendary band’s catalogue—and still might. Downie claims it’s not the last we’ll hear from them. (Original review here. My story on the Hip’s farewell and legacy for Maclean’s here. My review of the “final” show here. My year-end piece for Maclean’s Newsmakers here.)

7. A Tribe Called Quest – We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service (Sony). It wasn’t just Baby Boomers dying off; Phife Dawg was a mere 45 years old when he succumbed to diabetes, just after completing Tribe’s first album in 18 years. Both he and Q-Tip, neither of whom had prolific solo careers, proved they’d lost none of their potency and elevated their already-strong status as legends, not by emulating their glory days but by looking forward. Also: what a glorious thing it was to hear an actual rap group play off each other, as opposed to random guest verses on a superstar's record. It's a lost art. (Original review here.)

8. Michael Kiwanuka – Love and Hate (Universal). This British soul singer transformed his unassuming, folkie take on soul into the realm of the psychedelic, crafting a devastatingly beautiful respite in troubled times. The sound is undeniably retro—Nick Drake fronting Pink Floyd, or Marvin Gaye fronting Funkadelic—but never goes out of style. Nor should it. (Original review here.)

9. Eric Bachmann – s/t (Merge). Bachmann has been one of my favourite writers for more than 20 years (Archers of Loaf, Crooked Fingers), but it was his 2016 song “Mercy”—haunted by personal loss, impending apocalypse, and intense political divisions—that might well be his crowning moment, and was the one song I played more than any other in 2016, for obvious reasons. The rest this self-titled album is just as strong and heartbreaking (starting with “Modern Drugs”), a collection of perfectly crafted songs that pick up pieces of a shattered psyche. (Original review here.)

10. Anderson.Paak – Malibu (Steel Wool). This late bloomer (okay, he’s 30) is a studio veteran and multi-instrumentalist whose second album easily staked his claim in a crowded field of R&B reinventors. Malibu owes musical debts to D’Angelo, Erykah Badu and Kendrick Lamar, but with a considerably more joyous vibe—it’s no surprise that he also shows up on Kaytranada’s record. Miguel should watch his back. (Original review here.)

11. Tami Neilson – Don’t Be Afraid (Outside). No, really, one more record about death: this one by a Canadian expat in New Zealand, writing about her late father, the patriarch of a family band that toured Canada in her youth. Don’t Be Afraid is emotionally deeper than anything Neilson has done to date, which was well-executed but decidedly retro, bordering on kitsch. Not this time. The deeper she goes into the blues, the better she gets. Neilson’s voice has few equals in this country—k.d. lang? Serena Ryder?—and has to be heard to be believed, when she’s either hollering gospel (“Holy Moses”) or delivering a gorgeous country ballad (“Lonely”). (Original review here. Live review for Maclean’s here.)

12. The Comet is Coming – Channel the Spirits (Leaf). Led by saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings, this London trio’s debut is a synth-heavy, percussive, interplanetary psychedelic journey that lives up to titles like “Cosmic Dust” and “Slam Dunk in a Black Hole.” The New Musical Express dubbed the band “the Mercury Prize’s least-known nominee”—they were shortlisted alongside Bowie, Radiohead, Kiwanuka and other heavy hitters (and lost to Skepta). There’s nothing obscurist about them; this would go over like gangbusters in a Canadian rock club on a bill with Holy F--k and BadBadNotGood. (Original review here.)

13. Black Mountain – IV. If any rock record in the history of this country has a more powerful opening track than “Mothers of the Sun,” I’m not sure what that would be. A pulsing synth, a droning organ, a monster guitar riff, and the chilling vocals of Amber Webber and Stephen McBean keep us in suspense for more than three minutes before drummer Josh Wells kicks in to kick things into overdrive on what is an incredibly satisfying psychedelic rock record that never fizzles into pointless jam territory. McBean’s guitar solos are lyrical and evocative of Funkadelic great Eddie Hazel, but it’s Jeremy Schmidt’s keyboards that steal this show. (Original review here.)

14. Nels Cline – Lovers (Blue Note). The lead guitarist in Wilco appears on more than 200 records by others; his solo work, until now, has largely been experimental and skronky. On Lovers, his debut for the prestigious Blue Note label, however, he delivers a double album of love songs by composers ranging from Richard Rodgers and Henry Mancini to Arto Lindsay and Sonic Youth, along with original compositions. Lovers is lushly orchestrated, utilizing some of New York City’s most renowned avant-garde players, yet allows for plenty of abstraction and colouring far outside the lines, alongside more straightforward, classically beautiful performances. Though it never gets loud, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get deliciously weird. (Original review here.)

15. Glauco Venier – Miniatures: Music for Piano and Percussion (ECM). Many were the days when headlines made me want to bury my head in the sand. For those days, this prolific Italian pianist—who normally performs in a trio format, studied Italian Renaissance music, and has recorded albums covering Tom Waits and Frank Zappa—offers sparse compositions and improvisations augmented by gongs, bells and other metallic instruments. Only two of the 14 tracks are uptempo; the majority are meditative yet melodic, not sparse enough to be ambient music, but played with a delicacy and somewhat cautious deliberation. (Original review here.)

16. Paul Simon – Stranger to Stranger (Universal). "The fact is, most obits are mixed reviews." When his day comes, that's going to be as true of Paul Simon as anyone else, but at least he's still here, even if he's strongly hinting this will be his last album. He sounds far from spent. He's still borrowing from wherever he can, including a young Italian DJ, but, as always, there's no sense he's trying to shoehorn himself into something he can't turn around and make his own. He can write circles around his peers or descendents, even if no one seems to care anymore; the man can't even get a Grammy nomination these days, even though those seem to get handed out like participation stickers. Stranger to Stranger, indeed.  (Original review here.)

17. Badbadnotgood – IV. Space-age bachelor pad music from a jazz band steeped in hip-hop and joined by guest singers, including Future Islands’ Sam Herring, Chicago MC Mick Jenkins and Toronto newcomer Charlotte Day Wilson (Kaytranada and Colin Stetson stop by as well). This band gets better with each record, and the permanent addition of saxophonist Leland Whittly pushes them even further. Also—for the love of God, don't judge this album by its cover. (Original review here.)

18. Lizzo – Coconut Oil EP (Universal).  “I’m lit / don’t mess with it,” says Lizzo, on a track where she demands that you “worship me.” She doesn’t need to ask twice. Lizzo is as strong a rapper as she is a singer—and she’s one hell of a singer, which puts her on the level with Lauryn Hill, Queen Latifah and Nicki Minaj right off the top. One of the last new artists to be taken under Prince’s wing before his death, Lizzo is equally political and playful, a feminist who rolls with an all-female crew, a plus-size woman pushing body positivity, and whose music fuses old-school hip-hop with modern trap, with Latino elements and nods to James Brown interspersed throughout. After two promising independent records, this is her major-label debut, six songs with producer Ricky Reed (Pitbull, Meghan Trainor) that strip everything down to the pop basics and set her on a path to stardom: expect to see her everywhere, starting with her own MTV show (Wonderland). (Original review here.)

19. Hidden Cameras – Home on Native Land. Joel Gibb’s Hidden Cameras inspired Arcade Fire’s debut album, brought a queer aesthetic into a straight-laced indie scene, and went full-on electro on their last album. Here, however, Gibb goes full-on country, which suits both his songwriting and his voice. He throws in a few covers—including a take on “Dark End of the Street” that places the classic soul song in a closeted context, and a joyous romp through “Log Driver’s Waltz” with Feist, Rufus Wainwright and Mary Margaret O’Hara—but it’s his originals that serve as a reminder of his unique talent. (Original review here.)

20. Jim Bryson – Somewhere We Will Find Our Place. On the surface, this Ottawa singer-songwriter (and sideman to Kathleen Edwards, the Weakerthans and Tragically Hip) writes pleasant, sad-sack Ontario folk-rock (one of my default favourite genres). But his interest in synths and experience doing production work on the side—as well as bringing in Broken Social Scene’s Charles Spearin as a collaborator, and Shawn Everett (Grammy-winning Alabama Shakes engineer)—informs the expanded sonic palette heard here, which provide vivid colours to his tales of disconnection and ennui. (Original review here.)

Runners-up:

Anchorsong – Ceremonial (Caroline) (Original review here.)

A Tribe Called Red – We Are the Halluci Nation (Pirates Blend) (Original review here.)

Daughter – Not to Disappear (Glasshouse) (Original review here.)

Craig David – Following My Intuition (Sony) (Original review here.)

Deerhoof – The Magic (Polyvinyl) (Original review here.)

Johan Johannsson – Arrival OST (Deutsche Grammophon) (Original review here.)

Jordan Klaasen – Javelin (Nevado) (Original review here.)

Loscil – Monument Builders (Kranky) (Original review here.)

Selina Martin –  I’ve Been Picking Caruso’s Brain (independent) (Original review here.)

Aaron Neville – Apache (Sony) (Original review here.)

Agnes Obel – Citizen of Glass (Play It Again Sam) (Original review here.)

Operators – Blue Wave (Last Gang) (Original review here.)

Poirier – Migration (Nice Up!) (Original review here.)

Rihanna – Anti (Universal) (Original review here; this album grew on me considerably.)

John K. Samson – Winter Wheat (Anti) (Original review here.)

Sturgill Simpson – A Sailor’s Guide to Earth (Atlantic) (Original review here.)

Colin Stetson – Sorrow: A Reimagining of Gorecki’s 3rd Symphony (52hz) (Original review here.)

Allen Toussaint – American Tunes (Nonesuch) (Original review here.)

TUNS – s/t (Royal Mountain) (Original review here.)

Donovan Woods  – Hard Settle, Ain’t Troubled (Meant Well) (Original review here. This too grew on me considerably.)